Monday, April 28, 2008

That's the question I've gotten asked a lot this pregnancy. Much more than you would think or even more than what would be considered polite to bring up in mixed company. But thankfully my friends and family skirt the line of polite and instead say what they're thinking. And that's why I like them.

Why are you going through this again, this pregnancy, when it was so horrible the first time?

That, my friends, is the $64,000 question. Why would I go through another pregnancy when I knew what I was getting myself into (More or less. People do love to tell me that every one of their pregnancies were SO different. Yeah, mine? Not so much.)? Why did I go ahead and get knocked up again when I was adamant that we were "One and done"?

Mr. C and I had been talking about the possibility of having another kid. Time had passed, memory had dulled. We gave ourselves three months of not really trying but not really not trying to get pregnant and then we'd give up and be happy with what we had.

So I decided to throw caution to the wind and I packed my birth control pills in my checked luggage for my trip to Blogher '07, instead of in my carry-on. And wouldn't you know, my bag got lost? OF COURSE it did.

(Students of Freud, feel free to jump in anytime.)

Two days without pills and I just decided to stop taking them. Such a hassle anyway. And Mr. C and I could always use protection if we wanted to.

There I was at the funeral and the graveside service that followed, watching siblings console siblings and cousins consoling cousins. And when my sister and I stood arm and arm at the grave where my mother is also buried I knew... I just knew...

Of course, we couldn't have known that we would get pregnant so quickly upon not-trying-but-not-really-not-trying. I mean, it took us TWO WHOLE TRIES to get pregnant with Chicky.

Ahem.

To be perfectly clear, I'm not having another child for the first one. Chicky didn't ask for this. She might have one day. She might have begged until she was blue in the face for a brother or sister. But I did not do this just for her.

I did this for me.

My reasons for getting pregnant and going through hyperemesis and all the joys that accompany it again were purely selfish. That's right, I wanted to throw up my guts for months and months. Okay, not really. I wanted the peace of mind that my children would at least have another person in this world to help deal with my old, wrinkly self when the time came. Or deal with Mr. C's wrinkly self.

I didn't want the possibility of nursing homes, hospice care, medical proxy's, or funeral arrangements to fall squarely on just one person. I know me. I'm a worrier. Who needs that kind of stress when you're old or sick?

It wasn't totally doom and gloom that made me want to get pregnant again. I mean, how depressing, right? I wanted to make sure Chicky had someone in her life that she could turn to and bitch about her parents to.

"Mom and Dad are totally nuts! They won't let me stay out all night so I can go to this major kegger at Bobby's house! It's not like I'm going to do anything WRONG. I'm FIFTEEN YEARS OLD. They're being SOOO UNFAIR."

Can't you just imagine that? Chicky dramatically bursting through a closed bedroom door and throwing herself down on her sister's bed? Lamenting her fate of having the world's worst parents ever? I can. And it makes me happy.

It also pleases me that she'll have someone to watch over. Someone to take care of and be somewhat responsible for. I can't wait to watch Chicky and the little one walking hand in hand. Okay, not so much hand in hand but rather I'll drag you by the hand and you will follow me because you're smaller.

So you see, it's all about my happiness, my peace of mind. I got pregnant because I am a selfish woman. Mr. C is still trying to figure it out.

"Don't bitch to me because you feel fat. I still have the box of condoms in my bedside drawer."

Yes siree, it's all about me. And yes, I threw something at him after he said that. I can't chase him down and beat him but my aim is still good.

My selfishness only goes so far, however. After this one we are done. I like the world to revolve around me but multiple pregnancies tend to result in multiple kids, you know?

Now, if the birth and all that yucky stuff had nothing to do with me I would be a sublimely happy.

25 comments:

Siblings are am amazing, defining, anchoring part of a person's life. My sister is truly my best friend. Selfish or not, you have done a wonderful thing for Chickie Baby. And? You are far tougher than me, because I'm not sure I'd have the guts to do it again after what you went through. You're da bomb, Chicky. Seriously.

You know what? This is part of why we tried again, too. Because I totally imagined a sister for pumpkinpie, the one she wants so badly. But... ahem. Apparently Mother Nature doesn't like my girl as much as I do, because that is not what she's going to get, poor kid. sigh.

Having just spent several days arm in arm with someone with whom I share no blood whatsoever at the bedside of her dying father sharing all our memories and love and support and practical ideas I take issue with the idea that a. one needs a sibling for that stuff and b. that the person with whom you do stand will share your blood but the bottom line is that it makes you happy about your decision. That is all that counts.

Kizz - I could not agree more that one does not need a blood relative to go through tough times, like death, with. There is no guarantee that siblings will even desire to be in the same room with each other while dramas such as that unfold. However, I have noticed that a sibling is easier to come by than such a good friend such as yourself. You're more rare than you know.

You have summed up why I want another child so badly - I haven't always gotten along with my brother but one day when my parents are gone he will be the only person alive who bore witness to my childhood and that counts for something...

I don't know what it was about this post, but it brought me to tears... I can't imagine my life without my baby sister... all growed up as she is now with a husband and 5 year-old stepson... she is the one person I know has to love me unconditionally, and will always be my best friend no matter what... even when she doesn't like me... I think it's great that you are selfish enough to want that for Chicky :) HUGS to you. - R

My wife and I are about to have another baby. We took a similar approach to what you described - not really trying, but seeing what might happen for a few months. It only took a week or two. Now, that the baby is about to be born, people are still asking me, "Are you guys going to have any more kids?" Why would you ask someone about to have a baby if they want more? What am I supposed to say? Well, if I don't go crazy from having 2 in diapers at the same time, combined with a raging-hormoned teenager, maybe in a year or two we'll decide to make our lives even more complicated! WTH!

I know lots of only children and they turn out just fine but I think it would be hard with out siblings. They understand you better than anyone because they sorta lived the same life you did. Beautiful post.

I know exactly where you are coming from. Growing up an only child, I still feel like I am missing out on something. I didn't want my daughter to never have anyone to lean on and laugh with growing up. There is something to be said about learning to share and resolve conflict.

You definitely don't want The Boss talking to Chicky right about now. She would not give sisterhood a glowing recommendation (based on her whole week's worth of experience). It's been a tough transition, but one I know will be well worth it.